


Green’s A Nice Color

by theroomstops



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 06:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17802863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroomstops/pseuds/theroomstops
Summary: “Aren’t you lucky your secret girlfriend is so hot?” She’d puffed as wet hair clung to her forehead and she sipped from a 2 liter bottle of regular Coca Cola. It was quite the sight.Julia's not fine, and David's trying to help.





	Green’s A Nice Color

**Author's Note:**

> I'm overwhelmed by the response to the last one ("Happy Birthday, David"), and was already writing on this when the comments came in. Thank you for being so lovely for my first foray into David/Julia fanfiction, and I hope you enjoy this ... entirely different fic. Less lace, more crisps.
> 
> And sorry, but I can't write short ficlets for the life of me.

David Budd observed from his usual placing on the other side of the glass doors that encapsulated the office of Britain’s Home Secretary. As the days passed and he watched her day in and day out, one thing was crystal clear; Julia Montague was what people would refer to as a badass. Just that morning she had argued with or against her ex-husband, the Prime Minister, three journalists, two aides, himself, and a useless assistant that had already been given different tasks elsewhere, clearly not up to the job description.

But one thing Julia Montague was _not_ , was fine. Whenever she closed her mouth to allow the other person to talk, and sometimes even when she didn’t, her face looked like death warmed over. For the last week or so, Julia had been fighting off a bug that stole her energy, and while David didn’t mind catching up on some much needed sleep, he actually missed sex. Or, at least, he missed sex with her. Before he’d accidentally fallen into, and then very intentionally continued, an affair with the Home Secretary, he’d gone more than a year without any other comfort than his right hand. But now he missed making Julia whimper until she begged him for mercy, to please give her what she wanted. Missed the way she said “Please, David.” Missed seeing her sneaking a sultry look at him and bite her lip when no one appeared to be watching. Missed the way she’d moan, whenever he kissed the spot on her neck that he knew was really sensitive. 

However, for the duration of the last week, she could barely finish dinner before falling asleep on the couch with work papers in her lap, so their usual routine had been exchanged for falling asleep early, cuddled up closely. And now some sort of bad reaction or illness had left her a simpering mess on the bathroom floor the night before. He’d tried to Google remedies for food poisoning, but came out none the wiser, and none of the things he did try actually help. He’d probably looked ridiculous with his bags of potato chips, dry crackers, large bottles of Coca Cola and ginger ale. He must have come off as the super handy bodyguard, always eager to please. Going above and beyond for the principal. He’d stopped caring what anyone would think when Julia couldn’t even get up off the floor, and her face looked like she’d sprinted the London marathon. He’d left the bags in the hallway, said a quick goodbye to the new evening guard out front and snuck back in through the back entrance. He’d taken her sweat-drenched clothes off, turned the shower to cold and held one of Julia’s fancy white towels under the water. Squeezed the excess water out and wrapped the towel around her. Then he’d had to chuckle a little at the sight of her wrapped up like ET, but at least the combination of cold towels and dry snacks had seemed to stave off the vomiting for a while. 

“Aren’t you lucky your secret girlfriend is so hot?” She’d puffed as wet hair clung to her forehead and she sipped from a 2 liter bottle of regular Coca Cola. It was quite the sight.

“Aye. So hot.” Julia had tried to laugh, but instead he’d ended up with a wet towel in his lap as she threw up again.

*********

The following day, a little before lunch time, David watched as Julia got up off her chair, noticing her face contorting again as she shook hands with Anne Sampson and led the way to the glass door of her office. Sampson didn’t seem bothered, and he nodded respectfully as she made her way out with her team. Julia made a signal with her finger for him to come closer, and he tried to refrain from seeming too eager. “Ma’am.”

Julia bowed her head and whispered as she clutched the glass wall. “I need you to get me something fizzy to drink and a bag of whatever the last thing was from last night.”

“Already in your private office, ma’am. The one thing that muppet from earlier managed to get right.” Julia’s eyes almost glazed over as she took short, deep breaths. He wanted to put an arm around her, but felt all too conscious of the crowd around him. Even if they were all busy with other things, it would be reckless and stupid.

“Before you take off for the day, David, would you step in to my private office, please? I was reminded earlier that you’re due your evaluation and I need to discuss some of the details with you, if you don’t mind.” Julia spoke loudly, probably louder than she needed to, to make sure people heard her. She couldn’t very well be seen sneaking off with her bodyguard without an explanation.

“No, Ma’am.” He followed behind her as she closed the glass door behind them, life of the Home Office carrying on as usual behind them as she walked to the door at the end of her outer office. He had rarely seen her private office. She didn’t spend much time in there herself; never much time to work in private for the Home Secretary. She usually used it to hide from Mike Travis when he was being especially annoying, more than he normally was. She shut the door behind him, and he saw the mask fall as he faced her. The blinds were shut, the room was quite dark and in the middle of it stood a beautiful mess of a woman. His heart ached. “Sweetheart, you need to go home, you can’t work like this.”

“I have one more meeting I absolutely have to get through and then I think I will.” She drank the soda in large gulps, and watched as he opened the bag of crisps with desperate eyes. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” She shook her head briefly and grabbed a handful of crisps from the bag he was offering. “I think you should see a doctor, maybe you have a really bad case of whatever this is. And you were sweating last night - you might have a fever. People get sick, Julia. It’s been long enough of powering through now, you’ll fall apart if you keep this up. Or get seriously dehydrated. Please?”

Ugh, she hated the puppy eyes, and he knew she hated them because they worked. She relented and the crisps crushed in her mouth as she nodded slowly. “Are there cameras in this room?”

“No.” Julia pushed a new handful into her mouth, desperately trying to keep the nausea at bay. David leaned over and snuck a quick kiss before she could stop him, and she smiled. It was the first time he’d seen her somewhat relax in a week.

“You taste salty.” He grinned and licked his lips, the taste of salt still lingering on them. He moved to pull her into his arms for a tender hug, but she pushed against him, set the bottle on her desk and ran towards the small bathroom merely a few feet away. He heard the all-too familiar sounds of vomiting and felt really, really bad for her. He felt useless. Here he was, literally hired to protect her very life, and he couldn’t even make her feel the slightest bit better. He grabbed the soda bottle and he followed her into the bathroom. 

“Doctor might be a good idea.” Julia finally heaved as she settled on her knees in front of the toilet. David took a washcloth from the sink, wet it with cold water and sat down on the floor beside her. “I’ve worked through bloody pneumonia – twice – and every cold or bug I’ve ever had, and now I can’t even finish a fucking sentence without wanting to vomit. I’m not used to this … irritating weakness.”

“We won’t be ordering that curry again, I don’t care how good it is. Not worth the risk.” He patted the cold cloth gently around her face, trying not to ruin her hair more than it already was. “I’ll bring some food for us tonight, on my way from seeing the kids. You have to eat something. How does a dirty burger and salty, salty chips sound?”

“Amazing, actually.” He leaned over, his heart aching with sympathy at her reduced state, and kissed her temple while rubbing her back gently. “I almost threw up on Roger today. That was fun. That snake would have deserved it. Probably best I didn’t though, for the sake of the country and everything.” She smiled broadly, and his heart felt light for a second. At least she was cracking jokes. Even if it was over a toilet, and with one eye on a bag of crisps.

*********

David was getting good at sneaking in by now. If Julia’s neighbors ever saw him, he didn’t see them. He held onto the brown bag, and the whiffs of warm burgers made his stomach growl. Charlie and Ella were safely asleep in their beds, and his conversation with Vicky had been easy and pleasant. And so far he hadn’t gotten a call that his protectee slash girlfriend had fainted while he’d been permitted a few hours off work to see Ella’s school play, so he hoped that the tides had turned and he was finally about to be on the end of good news all around. Julia had looked downright ghastly when he’d been forced to leave earlier.

He locked the first door behind him, checking it twice before unlocking the second door and stepping into Julia’s flat. Still _her_ flat, though a drawer in the bedroom dresser was currently filled with his clothes and some of Charlie and Ella’s drawings, and other things he’d slowly brought over were scattered around the place.

He called out to her, hoping the smell of burgers would entice her to eat. He filled a pitcher with cold water from the fridge and placed it on the coffee table along with two glasses. “Julia? I have burgers, and they gave me extra of the good sauce we like. Julia?”

He checked the rooms and finally noticed the door to the en suite slightly ajar. He opened it, his face falling when he saw the sight in front of him. Julia Montague, earlier today a badass Home Secretary, now tear-stained, stone-faced potato crisp addict curled up on her own bathroom floor. Clutching a bottle of ginger ale and hugging her knees with one arm.

“What did the doctor say?” She gave no response. “Julia? Did you get in to see the doctor today?” She nodded, just barely, eyes still vacant. He crouched down, trying to get a reaction and trying not to let the fear of bad news take over. “What did they say? Sweetheart, what did the doctor say?”

“It wasn’t the curry.” He followed her eyes down to her hand. There, resting against a warm marble tile, clutched by tired fingers, was the sonogram that would alter the course of his life as he knew it.

*********

David leaned against the bathroom wall as he stared at the tiny photograph in Julia’s hand. She was still just sitting there, not moving a muscle, staring blankly into the air. “Julia? _JULIA_?”

“Sorry. I’m just… stunned. I’m sorry, David. What were you saying when you came in?” She sat up a little bit, leaving the bottle on the floor beside her.

“You were just sitting there, and after the week we’ve had… I was worried there was something wrong.” 

“No, I’m fine, David, really. Exhausted, but health wise everything seems to be as it should, all things considered. As far as she could tell from the internal scan, the doctor thinks I’m 11 weeks along. She said the date might change later, but she was surprised I hadn’t noticed weeks ago. Most people are sick as a dog from six weeks on. And she said that could be why it’s so bad now. My body’s working really hard at this, apparently. Making a person. I’m sure my work schedule and the lack of rest doesn’t help. But she gave me something safe to help with the nausea, so I haven’t thrown up in about three hours.” It was the most amount of words she’d strung together in his presence in the last week. Her heart pounded as she watched David attempting to take in all the information. “11 weeks, David. It could have been…”

“The bathroom at the Ritz.”

“-- the restroom in Paris.” They both said at the same time, grinning. 

 

_Julia hurried along as David led the way through the Ritz Hotel in Paris. It had snowed earlier that day, but neither of them got to fully enjoy it as Julia rushed from one meeting to another, barely any time at all to admire the sights from the car that carried her around the beautiful city. On their way back to the hotel, ready for yet another appointment with yet another foreign colleague, Julia had made the request to go back to her room for a bathroom break and been denied. Turn down service in progress, they’d told Tom. She’d have to wait 30 minutes, by which she’d be already attending her next meeting. When she stepped into the warm lobby, Tom apologized profusely for the inconvenience then said that the hotel manager had offered via phone, to shut down one of the restrooms for her. Julia had been taken aback, but stuttered a quick thank you, as Tom gave David directions. David checked from side to side as he walked, occasionally looking back at her and she smiled warmly. He opened the door and quickly checked for the presence of others, then held his arm out as she stepped in. A feeling not unfamiliar, and a smirk rested on his lips as he remembered being slammed against the door in another hotel bathroom._

_“I have to stay in here while you…”_

_“I didn’t actually have to go to the bathroom, David, I just wanted a fucking break. Thirty minutes without trying to explain why their ideas are ridiculous and unattainable. In French.” She ran her hand through her hair as she huffed. She looked tired, but beautiful. He looked around for any signs of cameras, and found nothing._

_“It’s kind of sexy.”_

_“What?”_

_“The French. You. Speaking French. I like it.” He felt overconfident. Tired from standing all day outside a door, holding watch as people walked by. Walking over, he grabbed her red suitcase and bag from her hands, placing them on the sink. He could feel Julia’s eyes following him as he walked to the door and turned the lock. He took his suit jacket off with a cheeky smile, placing it over the suitcase, before turning back to her. Her lips had curled into what could only be called a devious smile, and she’d looked around the bathroom, looking even more mischievous when she turned back. Their eyes locked, not straying for a second, as she stepped out of her shoes hurriedly and pulled off her burgundy Burberry coat. She was wearing that blue blouse he loved, with the bow in the front. Mostly she liked to wear it because it always made her feel powerful, but a little bit because she knew he liked it so much. Two sets of trousers and underwear fell quickly to the floor and Julia giggled. The way she purred his name made him feel high, and he felt a rush of desire as she stepped out of the clothing on the floor and jumped into his arms._

_Her legs wrapped around him and he was barely able to contain himself. She sounded so carefree and happy when he pushed them against the tiled wall. Italian he assumed, just as in the rest of the Ritz, as the hotel manager had informed Julia when she’d been shown around her suite upon arrival. She was intoxicating to him, he felt drunk on her, and there was no one else he could have imagined himself in this situation with. Mostly because having sex in a semi-public bathroom hadn’t even been on David Budd’s list of fantasies before a certain brunette had been thrown into his life. She had opened his mind as he had hers, and there they were, both panting pathetically, hoping the restroom door in the fancy Ritz Paris Hotel would keep their secret._

 

David’s breath caught in his throat at the memory and Julia laughed properly, for the first time in what felt like weeks. Laughter is, in a way, life giving. It resets your brain, brings new air into your body and starts things anew. And Julia felt all of that at once. She wanted to stay in the moment, to cherish the memory of Parisian dangerous desire, but she knew reality needed to drag them back. And frankly, she just needed to know how he felt. “We’d have to make a decision rather quickly.”

“No, it’s your decision, Julia. It’s your life being disrupted, it’s your body.” He said, meaning it, but watching her intently for her response. She looked at him curiously, breathing raggedly and hands twisting, the way she sometimes did when she was nervous.

“What do you think, though? Honestly.” She asked, looking up at him. He studied her face, hoping to notice a hint of her feelings on the subject. He wanted to be bold, to tell her about the many images that had flooded his brain the second he’d laid eyes on the sonogram he was now holding. He remembered the overconfidence that had probably led them here, and drew a deep breath.

“I think green’s a nice color. Light green. For a baby room.”

“Green sounds lovely.” She smiled, and he took her hand into his and kissed it. “I’m scared. This never seemed like an option in my life. Roger wasn’t exactly father material, and then time went by so quickly. Life just consumed all of me. I thought it just wasn’t meant to be. Can you really imagine me as a mother? Am I being silly thinking I can do this? Picking out a cot and boiling pacifiers?”

“Yes, you can do this.” And he meant it. “Kids don’t need a lot, they just need love. And we’d figure it out. You handle a lot of different people every day. People who are constantly asking you to give them what they want, and you don’t give in for a second. And today you did so with sick on your shirt.” 

“Oh God.” Her eyes widened in horror. 

“Just a little bit on the sleeve, no one noticed.” David kissed her forehead and sat back, still shaking a little bit. “You’ll be alright. I’m not saying it’s all kisses and cuddles, it’s hard too. But the good stuff makes the work worth it. And you’re helping run a country; I think you can handle a small child. You’ll learn the rest.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re halfway done raising two already. You know what you’re doing. Aided by what for all intents and purposes, seems like the perfect mother from what you’ve told me. I’m not like ---”

“This baby would be half me and half you, that sounds like a good start. And I’m a little impartial, but from experience I do know that kids tend to get the best from both parties, making up a pretty perfect little person.” He cupped her face between his unsteady hands and looked lovingly into her eyes. “Don’t worry that you’d be anything other than sensational, Julia. I don’t have any concerns. You took on the Prime Minister today, and he walked out looking like he’d been run over by a train. And then you threw up because you’ve felt like shit for a week. And I’ll tell you a big secret about being a parent - no one has a fucking clue. Everyone’s just winging it and hoping no one else notices. The question is do you want it, Julia?”

She chewed on her lip, wanting to be sure the feeling inside her wasn’t just the relief of knowing the cause of it all, and the temporary reprieve from heaving over a toilet. Although, the truth was she’d known what she wanted the second the doctor had told her. She, too, had pictured things. The cot. One of those baby swings that turned automatically. She’d imagined David, resting on the couch with a baby on his chest. Seen herself, breastfeeding in a dimly lit, and lovingly decorated baby room, in a house yet unseen. Making a house into the secure and loving home she’d never had. Even a dog was running around somewhere, one of the ones that didn’t shed. All these things no one knew had resided inside Julia Montague’s brilliant mind, right next to the dream of actually running the country. Things she had slowly let go off when it had become clear only 2 months into her marriage that it had been a mistake. Hopes she had put away in an imaginary box when she’d signed the divorce papers 5 years later. She had done just fine without those things, satisfied with doing something she felt mattered and having become everything her ex-husband never wanted her to be. A little lonely a lot of the time, but her life had been just fine. And then a doctor had pulled out the little imaginary box from its hiding place and told her she could have it. She looked at David, looking so nervously and lovingly at her. Felt his hand holding hers, and she nodded slightly. His hand clenched around hers, and she shook her head more noticeably. Stronger.

“Yeah?” His voice sounded apprehensive. Like he didn’t actually believe it. She smiled, could feel a big stupid grin on her face, and he smiled with her. Tears fell from his eyes, and she gently brushed them away as she kissed his cheek. He fell back against the wall opposite her as he drew deep breaths. They sat there for several minutes, just staring into the air, giggling softly as the excitement of the moment settled. David crawled back across the floor, settled on his knees opposite her, and brought his hand to her stomach. She’d been so caught up in the future part of it - she’d almost forgotten there was actually a tiny human growing inside of her.

“I can’t wait to start telling people. Ella and Charlie will be so happy, they love babies.” He whispered softly. His eyes had long since welled up with tears, and she could feel the heat of her own running down her face. “And Mum’s always asking for more grandchildren.”

“Oh God,” she sniffed, “What will your mum say? Now you’ve impregnated the poor Home Secretary, when as far as she knew, you didn’t even have a girlfriend. David, David, David. Might be a bit of a lecture in your future. ‘David Budd, have ye never heard of protection, have ye?’” She made a half-decent attempt at a Scottish accent and he threw his head back, his laughter sounding of relief and happiness.

“Aye. That’s not half-bad, actually.”

“We must be mad. Bringing a child into this. They will come into the world to a whirlwind of rumors. Everyone chipping away, trying to publish the most sordid story. The word scandal on the front page seems practically unavoidable.”

“Might not be a total scandal.”

“David, the Home Secretary is pregnant out of wedlock by her PPO. By another woman’s husband, even. Do you think it’ll go unnoticed by the press? Have you ever read a newspaper, my love?” She was right. He shook his head and gave her the win. Her hand pressed against her still flat stomach, and she chuckled. “It’ll be chaos. Absolute mayhem. But you know what, when this one asks us in 5, 6, 7 years where they came from, at least we can tell them they were wanted. Wished for. I never felt that as a child, and it was awful.” He caressed her cheek, and she closed her eyes, relaxing into his touch. 

“Very much so.” He curled up with his back against the bathtub, and she moved with him. Leaned against the porcelain tub, resting her head on his shoulder. His fingers played with hers absentmindedly.

“And maybe we’ll leave out the part about the Ritz bathroom, shall we? That’ll just live on as a memory in our dirty, dirty minds. No need to tell whoever this is that they were possibly conceived against Italian tiles in a Parisian hotel?” His fingers played with her hand, and she cherished the moment of levity.

“Now see, it’s not my fault you jumped on me, out of nowhere. My body had a very natural, physical reaction. There I was, just a poor, wee Scottish lad trying to do his job. Ambushed by some maniac in a fancy bathroom.” He smirked, suddenly incredibly grateful for nausea medication and their ability to have a light-hearted conversation again. 

“Oh please, _do_ tell your parents that version of events and let me watch you do it.” She said, laughing so freely and joyously, his heart soared. It almost made him want to pick up his phone right then and there, just to let her watch him do it. She leaned down and rested her head on his chest, still exhausted, the nausea from the last week gratefully replaced with hope and excitement.

*********

When the night came, Julia dozed off with his arms wrapped tightly around her, and David couldn’t help but imagine what their wee one would look like. Would it have his eyes? Her eyes? Would they run their hand through their hair nervously they way mummy did, or would they assess every miniscule detail around them, in order to keep control, instead? Would it be happy? Would it even like the green walls he’d suggested earlier? Would they live in a house, or stay in this flat? A slight worry started to set in, and he took deep breaths. He snuck a hand further down to rest on Julia’s abdomen and smiled. It felt reassuring to listen to the calm, steady, heavy breaths of deep sleep, as she lay in his arms.

When they’d clung to each other one night all those months ago, lonely and desperate to find any human connection at all, he certainly hadn’t imagined this; a designated side of the bed, sneaking into her home, and a sonogram against a warm bathroom tile. He didn’t feel at all prepared for whatever mayhem would follow once the press got wind of their news. But as he felt his hand move with Julia’s belly, up and down with the rise of her breathing, he didn’t want to imagine it any other way.

 

**2 Months Later**

She was almost 19 weeks into her pregnancy when the press release went out. A fuller face, her rapidly growing hair and an uncharacteristic wardrobe had finally alerted the vultures of the British Press that something was going on with Home Secretary Julia Montague. Waiting to share the news hadn’t been the most uncomplicated thing she’d ever done, but it had given them time. Time to plan, and time to do. Time for David to quit his job, and settle into a new one. Time to tell Vicky and start divorce proceedings. Time for Julia to meet and get to know Ella and Charlie a little, before sharing with them the news about the new bundle about to enter into their lives. _To say Ella was overjoyed would be an understatement._ Time to sell their flats and buy a house with five bedrooms, with room for everyone to have their space. _She couldn’t wait for renovations to finish, to be sitting amongst those soft green walls, as the light shone through the windows of their impending arrival’s new room._ Time to let the news sink in and bask in the newness of it all.

She watched as the news report played on the TV in her office, and as expected, saw the heads of employees turn her way as the newscaster spoke. “… In some happy news, the Home Office just announced that Home Secretary Julia Montague is pregnant and expecting her first child. They also confirm that the Home Secretary is expected to be working for the duration of her pregnancy, and we here at BBC News offer our warmest congratulations.” So, there it was. No mention of David, quick and easy. Like a band-aid being ripped off. She felt flutters in her belly again. Vicky had mentioned during family dinner one evening that with both Ella and Charlie, signs of movement had started by feeling like flutters. Like soft tickling, but on the inside of her body. She placed a protective hand over her expanding belly and sighed. Relieved. And ready for the shitstorm that would undoubtedly follow.


End file.
